


Fangs, Feathers, and Potter!?  Oh, my!

by Bonfoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2008, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Challenge Response, Character Turned Into Vampire, Community: hpvamp, Crack, Free Range Bunny Challenge II, Humor, M/M, Over-the-top characterization, Vampire Draco, Vampires, Veela, Veela Draco, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:31:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veelas who become vampires bring a whole new style to the undead life! At least if they’re Draco Malfoy they do!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fangs, Feathers, and Potter!?  Oh, my!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grey_hunter](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=grey_hunter).



> _Original request/Bunny_
>
>>   
> **Scenario:** Veela should never get turned into Vampires!  
>  **Cool things:** Crazy!Draco who doesn't know whether to obey his Veela or his Vampire instincts (but he was normal before, huh?), ignorant!Harry, accidents  
>  **Squicks:** ultra-bottom!anyone (submitted by Grey_Hunter)
> 
> * * *
> 
> _Original Author's Notes:_ Tried to write this while under the influence of sugar and caffeine…I hope it shows! I tried to squeak in under the dead-line but didn’t make it, but with the hpvamp_mods’ kindness, you lucky devils get the story anyway!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  _Warnings:_ Crack!fic elements (alliteration, egocentrism, over-the-top characterizations); Wee bit of Ginny-bashing

§¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪ §¤§₪

**_Disclaimer:_** The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

«¥»

Preening in front of a mirror was nothing new for Draco Malfoy. He’d spent his life looking after his looks: powdering, plucking and posturing. Turning this way and that, he admired the curve of his buttocks and the long, lean lines of his thighs as they merged into his knees and became calves most women would die for and then became twin swirls of delicate strength that really were his ankles which led quite naturally to feet that were the stuff of fantasy. Gods, he loved his nether regions!

Sneering at the white and pale grey feathers drifting across his room, Draco shrugged his shoulders and watched his wings unfurl behind him. Granted, being a Veela meant he was beyond gorgeous and his body would never sag or swell like other wizards—well, except the important bits, at the appropriate time—he disliked the Spring ritual of molting. Small feathers wafted down from Draco’s head and collected across his shoulders even as he gracefully stood on tip-toe and flexed his superior muscles, especially the ones in his buttocks. _Oh, Merlin! I could crack walnuts with one-and-a-half clenches!_ he thought to himself with a smile.

“Oh, bother!” He had to pluck some of his pinfeathers! Panicking—in a dignified, aristocratic manner—Draco called for his grooming house-elf. “PIN! Pin, get your long-eared, slightly pale green face up here, now!” he bellowed. The soft _pop_ that heralded Pin’s arrival blended with Draco’s mutterings about bent feathers and Veela grooming hassles. “Bring me my kit…yes, that one,” he said as the house-elf gasped. “You’ll need the solid gold pluckers.”

Once Pin found the solid gold pluckers—Muggle tweezers of plated gold over stainless steel, but Draco didn’t know that—the house-elf began removing the bent pinfeathers and smoothing the other feathers into a white and grey waterfall of Veela suppleness. It took hours, but nothing was too good for Draco Malfoy, Tenth Veela of the Malfoys and only British male Veela of the current generation. He merely turned, twisted and twirled in whatever direction Pin indicated, until he felt lighter and more streamlined.

Feeling generous, Draco smirked at Pin’s stricken expression. Everyone knew that when Draco Malfoy smirked, something bad was going to happen. “If you weren’t such a credit to your house-elf-dom, I’d give you clothes in a heartbeat. Being that you know your way around a Veela in distress, I think I’ll give you…” he paused for effect, “…time to visit your friend, the one that lives in Honeydukes.” Pin bounced up and down on her feet and then flung herself at his knees, hugging them for all she was worth. Draco allowed it since it approached god-like worship.

«¥»

Keeping his promise to Pin, the Veela included her in the next day’s activities. Visiting Honeydukes was always a treat, and Draco always made it an event worthy of the front page of _The Daily Prophet_. His family coach landed outside the city limits and wove in and out of traffic erratically, drawing attention and invective in equal measure. Draco didn’t care; his only goal was to draw the eyes of the plebian public. This time, he also drew the green eyes of Harry Potter, Special Operations Auror.

Harry couldn’t believe he’d drawn the short end of the wand—Ron must have had his girlfriend, Hermione, cast some sort of luck spell—and gotten assigned to guard Draco Malfoy a.k.a. The Ponce of the Wizarding World. He looked around and took note of the witches and wizards stopped on the sidewalk of Honeydukes. 

Hogsmeade was still one of the wonders of Wizarding Britain, the last bastion of old time wizarding left. Harry loved visiting whenever he could, and at least the Ponce—eer…Veela prince—knew a good thing when he saw one; the daft blond and his wings floated over the head of the crowd to share his own _ooh_ and _aah_ sounds as they watched the half-sized gingerbread men dance with the sugarplum fairies in the window display. When someone cast a spell that had the gingerbread men sucking on the fairies’ sugar plums, Harry intervened.

“That’s it, people! Move along, nothing to see here!” he shouted. Waving his wand like a baton, Harry began casting herding spells to move the crowd away whilst simultaneously pulling the squawking Draco Malfoy from the air. “You, Malfoy, are a menace! I know it was you what hexed the cookies into…into…you know.” The flags of Harry’s blush rode high in his cheeks, underlining his eyes, and making Draco think about how pretty that particular shade of green was when paired with burgundy.

“Hmm…you should be burgundy more often.” Draco lightly touched down and folded his wings behind him. His robes had permanent non-mussing spells on them, so they fell in a soft cloud around the Veela. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing—and sighing like a love-struck fool—as he watched the ponciest of all ponces traipse into the sweet shop.

«¥»

After a day of shopping, and another stop at Honeyduke’s, Draco made it back to the Manor, replete with sweets and bedecked in new robes of heavy silk in a fetching peach with blindingly white piping on the sleeves and collar. They were extremely comfortable around the wing-holes and he loved the heavy weight of them between his shoulder blades. “Well, Potter, thank you for the lovely escort.” Draco twirled around, his robes flaring out to clip Harry’s legs, a sinuous slide of silk that had his cock stiffening in response. Malfoy could feel the arousal—he _was_ a Veela, after all—and almost decided to play with the speccy-eyed git, but no, he was too drowsy after his day of flitting here and there. “Go on with you, Potter.” Malfoy’s pale, delicate hands waved in his direction and Harry backed out of the foyer and onto the stoop, closing the thick oak doors behind him.

“Ponce,” he said with a soppy smile on his face. Whistling, Potter looked around from under his eyelashes, searching for any threats even as he basked in the memories of Draco Malfoy trying on robe after robe at Madame Malkin’s and then The Wizarding Wiz of Fashion; of Draco’s face when he tried the newest confection at Honeyduke’s—Draco’s Dramatic White Chocolate Wings—and deemed it a hit; of the blond Adonis’ swirling peach and perfect movements just before he waved Harry out the door. Shaking his head, Harry Potter put his hands in his pockets and headed back to Auror HQ, ignorant of the dark shadow creeping up the garden wall of the Manor.

The first to meet the Shadow was Pin, ironing Draco’s silk shirts in the back dressing room. It flowed up and over the sill of the open window, stealing between the space beneath the clothespress and the free-standing cheval mirror. The house-elf shivered as a cool touch flitted over her ankle. “Nasty wind!” she cried. Putting down the Ever-steamy Pressing Stone, Pin clapped her hands and the window slammed shut. The Shadow was trapped inside…or was it?

«¥»

Draped over his favorite chaise, dressed in a fine lawn blouson shirt with romantic ties—undone, of course—and not-so-tight black jodhpurs with no socks to distract from the line of his fine, narrow feet and their tantalizingly high arches, Draco flapped his wings in a indolent manner and thought about Harry Potter. “Swot!” he muttered as he pondered the Idiot-That-Lusted. Running his fingers idly through the large guide feathers, removing the stray flaw as he went, Malfoy mused on the fine body that Potter hid under his overly-large robes. “Mmm…muscles…he’d have lovely, delineated muscles for me to trace with fingers and toes and feathers…”

“Aargh!” The Shadow had crept from room to room, avoiding house-elves and scaring Draco into a shivering cloud of white feathers and talon-tipped hands. “Ha ha ha!” the Shadow guffawed, wheezing as the laughter died away in a gurgle. Draco’s transformed hand had wrapped itself around the offender’s throat in a crushing grip, hence the gurgling.

“You idiot!” The enraged Veela shook the Shadow much like a terrier shakes a rat, only Draco wasn’t intent on just breaking a back. “How many times have I told you **not** to do that? Hmm, how many? Whimper the answer now!” Draco shook the body in his hand up-and-down and back-and-forth as he waited for his answer.

Eyes bugging out and lips turning purple, the Shadow—visible as one Blaise Zabini—gurgled and writhed at the end of Malfoy’s taloned arm. He mewled out a count of ten and earned a reprieve. “Vampires!” Draco said in an exasperated voice. “You never learn, do you, Zabini? My home, my wards, my territory!” He shook the Vampire once more and then tossed the now almost-unconscious magical being into a corner filled with pillows of all sizes. “Get your breath back, you fangsome prat, and tell me why I shouldn’t Vanish you to the outer reaches of Manchester!” Draco watched his fingernails reappear and made a moue of distaste at the hang-nail that was left behind on his right middle finger.

Flashing the middle finger at Blaise—paired, of course, with the corresponding index finger—Malfoy bellowed for Pin. “PIN! I need the tools!” The house-elf _popped_ in with a squeak of distress, manicure and pedicure implements in two baskets at her feet.

“Oh! Bad vampy! Mustn’t tease Master Draco on shopping days!” The house-elf shook her big, floppy ears and guided the distraught Veela to his couch so the hang-nail could be remedied.

«¥»

Harry tripped over a discarded shoe as he came in. “RON!” he bellowed as he almost fell on his face. Whipping his wand out of his forearm holster, Harry cast cleaning spells, Summoning the broom from the cupboard under the stairs to do its job. The broom quivered in front of him, bristles fluttering just an inch above the messy floor. “Broom, sweep the floor and beware of Ron’s shoes and other things!” The brunet pointed and the broom set-to with a will.

A messy red head, not the one attached to the name he’d shouted, poked out of a door further down the hall. “Oi, Potter!” Ginny waved her wooden spoon, a dollop of something brown sliding down to land on her bare foot.

Pinching his nose—just one of the traits he seemed to have picked up from Snape—Harry tried to keep the impending headache at bay. “What are you doing here, Ginny? We’re not a couple anymore.” He stepped forward and tripped again, this time over a leather Auror’s glove trying to rejoin its mate on the other side of the hall. “Have you been trying on my robes again, Ginny?” Harry’s suspicious glare didn’t subside when both gloves began clapping—in their own odd, inanimate manner.

“Oh, Harry…you know that you love it!” The red-headed demon giggled as Potter’s eyes crossed in disgust. The noise issuing from Ginevra Weasley’s mouth _should have been_ a giggle, but the high pitch set the hairs on the back of the brunet’s neck to standing at attention. Sidling close, the batter plopped onto Harry’s trainer, staining it a dirty brown.

Stepping back, Harry tried to avoid more nasty surprises. “Listen, Ginny, we’re done, through, finished, _finis_ , _kaput_ , broken up, no longer seeing each other…how many ways do I have to say it?” The frustration was making his green eyes more brilliant and his voice more strident. “Just…just leave, okay? It’s been a long day and I have a late duty tonight.” Harry let his wand fall into his hand and opened the door for the witch.

Her happy, giggle façade cracked and the temper Ginny was famous for erupted. The wooden spoon slapped into Harry’s chest, batter splattering across his pectorals and seeping into his uniform robes. “You think you can throw me away, Harry Potter? You’d be nothing without me, without the Weasleys!” Her anger began for form a dark raincloud with lightning dancing around the edges over her head. Pointing a shaking finger at Harry, Ginevra Weasley cursed him, “You aren’t as all-powerful as you think, Harry Potter! You’ll pay, mark my words, Potter! Someone, somewhere will suck the pride right out of you!” The red-headed demon slammed the door behind her, forgetting her shoes and robes were still in the cupboard under the stairs.

The tired brunet cast locking charms and other defensive spells at the door, feeling along the wards to find out how Ginny had wormed her way into his home. “Ah ha!” he cried as he felt the rift at the edge of the northeast corner. “Damned annoyance broke the weakest corner of the wards, did she? Well, let’s just fix that…” He set to work, standing in the hallway, weaving spell after spell into the wards around his home. When they were repaired, and any other vulnerable sites taken care of, the brunet sighed. “Well…that took an hour of my life I’ll never have back.” It took Ron Weasley an hour to get the door open when he came home.

«¥»

Across England, in a mansion so old that the furniture sometimes thought out loud, surprising diners and others with conversations concerning oak and honor, yew and change, cherry and thorn, et cetera and so forth, Draco Malfoy lay across his best friend’s legs, wings covering the two of them as they recovered from a bout of friendship-with-benefits. The Veela’s pale skin was a rosy gold and a handful of feathers—pulled out when Blaise wouldn’t bend over properly—was scattered around the dozy twosome. The scent of sex permeated the air and spread out as Draco slowly flexed his wings in a cooling breeze.

Draco turned his head slowly, muscles pleasantly tired. “You know…you could have just come _prepared_.” He pulled his hair from beneath Zabini’s arm, wincing as the lout didn’t lift up to help. “Now…go away! I have to get ready to go out and Potter will be here soon.” Naked but for his wings, Malfoy stood and moved to his armoire to pluck out a gauzy robe, enhancing more than hiding his beauty. “Didn’t you hear what I say, Zabini? We’ve fucked, now shoo!” The words and a lazy wave of his hand seemed to do something strange to the young Vampire and Zabini Shadow-Stalked to a point behind his amour.

“Vengeance!” That was the last word out of Zabini’s fang-filled mouth that Draco heard. He squawked like a chicken being plucked as his friend and part-time-lover attached himself to the aristocratic swan-like neck of the Veela. His wings beat frantically, lifting the two of them from the floor only to crash down as the blood was drained to just before death. Something sinewy was forced against the blond’s mouth. The cool, salty taste of…blood— _Oh Morgana, it’s really blood!_ —coated Malfoy’s lips and tongue and he swallowed reflexively…It was the last thing he remembered in his life.

«¥»

Arriving early to grab Malfoy for the _Veela Appreciation Parade_ , Auror Potter smelled the only innocuous rose plant—a concession to Potter’s nosiness—and smiled as the lavender rose colored up as his nose stroked a few petals. He stood up, self-consciously straightened his Auror’s robes and knocked on the door, wondering why Pin hadn’t been there to hold it open for him as soon as he passed the wards. His gut began to clench as prickles of dread began sliding up and down the Savior of the Wizarding World’s spine and he drew his wand as the door creaked open…ominously. Standing in the middle of the foyer was the house-elf Harry had begun worrying about, only she was stock-still, as if her feet were glued to the floor…and Pin was weeping silent tears, her fists jammed against her mouth. Harry sidled to the side, behind the door, and began muttering revealing charms and trapping hexes. Once he was satisfied, he stepped forward to kneel on one knee by Pin and pull her into his arms.

Keeping his magic at full alert, Harry gave into his heart and begged Pin to tell him what was wrong. “Pin…PIN!” he shouted, and then blushed. “Um…what’s wrong? Where’s Malfoy?” His voice rose again, “ **Where’s Malfoy, Pin?** ” The words echoed from the rafters, or they would have if generations of Malfoys hadn’t insisted upon ceiling mosaics! The little house-elf cringed back and then burbled out an incoherent answer. “Slowly, Pin, talk slowly…”

“Master Draco…Master not…cannot scrub…” Pin sobbed into Harry’s shoulder. She turned her big up to his green ones and spoke even slower. “Master Draco not Veela no more.” She _popped_ out of existence leaving Harry holding nothing but air and a not-so-vague-anymore feeling of dread that was segueing into fear.

Potter jumped up and ran up the stairs, screaming, “ **DRACO! Damn it, Draco! Answer me!** ” He rushed from room to room, house-elves huddled in knots as Harry skidded around corners. Outside of Draco’s room, the Auror skidded to a halt and bent over, panting quietly, trying to catch his breath as he desperately attempted to listen for anything behind the closed door. Standing up, cheeks red and heart beating rapidly, the brunet cast a breathy _Alohamora_ and pushed the door open. The room was a shambles: the armoire was canted on its side, the contents spilling out in a rainbow of material and color; the mirrors were cracked from side-to-side; the curtains were closed, billowing in the summer breeze—something that Draco never allowed as he basked in the sun! 

A sound—more a whisper of one, really—caught Harry’s attention and he stuttered-stepped forward and then stopped, shaking his head at the idea of ignoring every bit of Auror training he’d had; he cast a Summoning charm and a severed hand flew towards him. Stomaching threatening to revolt, Harry kept it from spewing his breakfast all over what he now knew it was a crime scene. Muttering a Suspension Spell to preserve the scene, Potter backed out and into a cluster of house-elves. His _eep_ of surprise was swallowed up in their quavering sobs.

“Harry Potter Sir going to help Master Draco?” Pin asked. The other house-elves nodded and wiped their teary-filled eyes as they looked up into the Auror’s face. An ancient house-elf Harry knew as Elder made his slow way to the brunet’s side and pulled him down the hall, to a portrait of a Veelic ancestor preening before a mirrored shield.

“Mah-ster Dray-co hiding he-re,” he wheezed. Elder’s large hand awkwardly patted at Harry’s thigh, hitting his covered cock repeatedly; Potter’s eyes crossed at the sensation as he manfully tried to ignore it. “Kissy-kiss Mah-ster Abraxas to en-ter.” The house-elf tottered away to shoo the others to their jobs, leaving an embarrassed, house-elf-induced horniness that Harry _tried_ to will away. Looking left, looking right, and then setting warning charms; he then unzipped and began polishing his knob to the delight of Abraxas Malfoy’s portrait. A few pulls, tugs and an innovative pulsing twist over the head of his cock relieved Potter’s nervous energy, deflated his prick and had Abraxas opening the portrait door he guarded with only a sighing wish that he ‘could take a ride upon that tallywhacker.’ Auror he might be, but Harry Potter blushed like a schoolboy as he tucked himself back into his jeans and nodded his thanks to the interested Veela.

Poking his head around the corner of the doorway, Harry saw a mound of feathers, big enough to be Draco, heaped in a corner. Wand out, the Auror cautiously approached. A few diagnostic spells had Harry rocking back on his heels; whoever was under the feathers was a Vampire! “Draco?” the brunet asked softly, “Draco, do you hear me? Please, show me your face. I’m only here to hel- **URK!** ”

A wildly flapping wing clipped Potter under the chin, separating him from his wand. He hit the wall even as Malfoy’s blood face came into view. “Sorry…sorry…” The bright white feathers that had sprouted in his Veela rage had been tinted pink; it looked like Malfoy had tried to wash the blood off. “Zabini did it! He bit me!” Draco’s horrified expression was marred by his childish pout as he looked at his blood-encrusted nails. “And he _bled_ all over my nails! Look, Harry…” He shook his hand under Potter’s nose. “Will you look at that? I just had Pin do my nails after we _fu-_ had a tumble in the sheets!” Draco held out his hand, the soft color on the talons marred by Zabini’s blood.

Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, the vampiric Veela tried to read his Ministry-assigned Auror’s face…with little luck. He swallowed and said in a tiny voice, “You don’t hate me, do you, Harry? I’m not bad, am I? I mean, I’m still beautiful, aren’t I?” Malfoy’s grey eyes, shot through with red-highlights, were so sad that Harry couldn’t resist and he put his arm around the newly-made Vampire.

“You’ll always be beautiful to me, Draco. You know that, don’t you?” Malfoy’s pointy nose was poking at Potter’s neck as the brunet pulled him closer. “You smell… _divine_!” Draco breathed out over Harry’s carotid artery. The poke of the Auror’s wand under the blond’s chin preempted his foray into nibbling vampirically upon Potter’s neck; Malfoy growled like a kitten in response. Harry’s laugh was clear, not a trace of fear in it. “Just let me know if you’re hungry, okay? I’ve got a few friends you can gnaw on while we figure out what to do.” He stood up, but then he fell onto his knees; the Veelic Vampire was sitting on his Auror’s robes! “Draco…move yer arse…please?”

Wings drooping, Malfoy moved as directed and pouted up at Harry. “Are my wings nasty? Pin wouldn’t come close to groom me, you know.” He fluttered his eyelids and seemed to be trying to use the infamous Vampire thrall on Potter. “You know you want to clean the blood out of my feathers, Harry. You can feel just how yucky I feel, can’t you? You want to put your lovely, coarse fingers into my downy goodness, don’t you?” Draco cooed in Harry’s direction. Harry grinned and stepped away.

“Nuh uh, Malfoy!” The Auror waggled his index finger in front of the hungry Vampire Veela, watching the grey and red-shot eyes follow it like a cat after a string. “Cut that out, Malfoy! I told you, I have friends that will let you feed, silly git. Just…just sit there and look pretty…in a non-threatening, sort-of-bloody way, okay?” Harry had made it to the door and without taking his eyes off of Draco, he bellowed for Pin.

The little house-elf appeared at Harry’s side, wringing her hands. “Harry Potter sir is screaming?” She peeked in at Draco and clapped her hands. “Harry Potter sir made Master Draco Veela again! Whee!” She rushed forward, a plethora of boxes and the solid gold pluckers popping into existence as well. Draco’s fang-filled smile stopped her in her house-elf tracks and then she slowly sidled forward. “Master Draco still Veela?” Pin asked in a quavering voice. 

Willing his fangs away and only getting them to half-mast, Draco opened his arms and pulled his favorite house-elf into a hug. “I’m still Master Draco, Pin. I promise. Harry said he’d help and I promise no more nasty body-parts and blood across the furniture.” Pin giggled and then slipped out the hug to begin grooming Malfoy. The Veela in him purred as the Vampire in him got confused at all the loving attention. “Um, Harry? Just who are your friends?” He extended his right wing to its full span at Pin’s unsubtle urgings. “I mean, I can’t drink the blood of plebians! Nothing less than noble blood for this Vampire, no sir!”

Rolling his eyes and swallowing back a chuckle, Potter leaned in the doorway and watched the grooming. It was all so _normal_ …well, except for the pink feathers and the blood-shot-looking eyes. “Oh, Seamus has a Vampire kink and Luna has the best blood for drinkers; Sanguini said so when she gave him a sip.” Looking at Draco as Pin began removing the bloody remnants of clothes, Harry blinked at the sight of pale, perfect, perky pectorals. “Uh, where was I? Oh, yeah…and George Weasley has a blood fetish and Remus will do anything for anybody who bites…” At the Veelic Vampire’s squawk of outrage, Potter stuttered to a halt.

“You want me to feed off of Weasleys and dark creatures and…and…and an Irishman?!” Pin bobbed and weaved around the wildly gesticulating creature. “An Irishman, Potter! A Firewhisky-swilling, Guinness-farting, cross-eyed and leering Irishman! Have you no knowledge of me, Harry?” Tears, bloody tears, seeped from under Draco’s eyelids and made wavery tracks down his pale cheeks. “Do you want me to be well-fed, Harry?”

Not moving from his leaning-post, the Auror crossed his arms and stared hard at the drama queen he guarded. “Of course I want you to be happy and well-fed. But, Draco, my friends are strong witches and wizards; their blood will make you **more** beautiful and **more** ethereal. Would you throw that all away by being a snotty Veela Vamp?”

Uncrossing his arms, Harry put his hands on his hips, an unconscious mimicry of Molly Weasley in lecturing mode. “Now, you will get groomed and all prettied-up and I will escort you to the Blood Drive, Seamus’ pub in Dublin. You will play nice, not flash your new fangs all over, and you will sip like a dainty Vampire! Is that clear?” The manly, dominant Harry made the Veela half of Draco melt and the Vampire half whet its chops at the thought of stealing some of **that** blood!

“Yes, Harry.” Draco then let himself fall into his grooming zen and let his Veela inside writhe around in joy; Harry Potter had it in him to be a dominant partner! _Yippee!_ His inner Vampire wasn’t so certain, but the power that throbbed and whooshed through those veins was singing with power, the scent of which made his fangs ache. “Did you…did you find Blaise’s hand?” The wings sagged a bit and flapped in desultory manner as the grey and red eyes looked sidewise at Harry. “I got awfully angry with him, you know.” Draco voice was quiet, missing his usually happy and clueless tones.

Sitting down next to the Veelic Vampire, Harry butted shoulders, the brush of the feathers almost erotic enough to make him forget he was sitting next to a blood-drinker. “Draco…you defended yourself, correct?” He flicked Draco’s fang-tips as they showed just over his lower lip. “I trust you, goofy Vampire and Veela that you are.” Malfoy’s eyes closed as he smelled the blood just a skin’s width away from him; there was so much power within Harry, calling out to him, easing his mouth open…

“Hey! C’mon! I have to notify the Aurors and get you to a safe house.” Harry turned away, patting at his robes. “Now, where did I put that Calling Stone?” Malfoy stood and opened his wings, brushed against Potter’s back. Then, he slid forward and gently pushed the brunet’s head to the side. Potter made a slight _eep_ and then, Draco’s fangs pierced him. The Vampire side of Draco was in fanged heaven; the blood was so rich, so clean, it was almost illegal. The Veela side found Harry’s scent intoxicating so close-up, his erection springing to full attention immediately. Both sides agreed that Harry Potter wasn’t going anywhere for a long time, and Malfoy wrapped his wings around the two of them as he continued to feed.

“M-M-Malfoy…st-st-stop…” Harry felt the thrill of suction on his neck and the world turned dark. His bottom welcomed the prodding, thrusting hips behind him, and his own cock was straining the zip of his jeans. “Don’t stop…don’t stop…” Harry began begging. He didn’t know what to do with his hands until those gorgeous wings covered them, deepening the dark.

«¥»

Soft sounds slowly impinged into Harry’s consciousness and he stretched as if he’d had a luxuriously long sleep. “HEY!” he yelled. “I’m naked!”

“Well, of course, you are! Silly Gryffindor, how else do you think we’re going to have sex?” A gloriously bare, buff and bodacious Draco Malfoy grinned down into Harry’s startled eyes. A taloned-hand was plucking at Harry’s nipples, making them peak and then flicking them as Draco seemed to survey a new land for the taking. “Did you know Vampires and Veelas are almost the same? We like pretty, shiny, powerful things…and people…and we don’t much care for being denied.” The red in Malfoy’s grey eyes spread until there was only a grey ring around each iris. “We also like Harry Potter...and we won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” He leaned down to steal Harry’s breath, stroking his tongue and then nicking it for a quick pick-me-up; Potter didn’t mind, his hands were full of Malfoy arse and soft downy feathers.

“Mmm…very, very good, Harry…Now, front or back? I need to get inside and feel all of you.” Draco’s smile was wicked with the extended fangs showing.

Shaking his head, Harry didn’t know, didn’t care and didn’t have a voice to say anything anyway. He just turned over, got on his knees and exposed his arse to the Veelic Vampire’s lustful eyes. “Oh, Harry…” Draco breathed. He spontaneously flew up into the air and hovered as Harry’s moaned at the slight breeze caressing his heated flesh. “I have to…oh, where’s the damned lube? _Accio_ lube!” Malfoy snapped his fingers as he cast the spell and fifty-odd bottles, tubes, and tubs of lubricant showed the two lovers. Harry fell face-forward, laughing until slick fingers slithered into his channel and fangs scrapped over his shoulder blades.

No more words were spoken as Draco loosened Harry. When Potter was taking three fingers and mewling, Malfoy smoothed lubricant on his own reddened cock and eased into Harry’s body, excruciating inch by inch until his shaved balls nestled against Potter’s perineum. A frantic grunt made Draco smile and then begin furiously thrusting, aiming to hit Harry’s prostate as many times as he could. They swayed and snapped together, over and over, Draco’s wings adding a new dimension as he lifted slighting every other thrust. As the climax rushed upon him, Draco pulled back and bit Potter’s arse and drank deeply as he orgasmed. Harry’s scream and resulting moans indicated he too had peaked and pulsed.

«¥»

Waking up in a darkened room, Harry felt safe…safer than he’d ever been. Then he realized that there was a wing, a blindingly white wing draped over his body, softer than any duvet he’d ever imagined. “Draco Malfoy fucked me…” he whispered wonderingly. His fingers petted and smoothed over the wing, straightening a feather here and plucking a bent one there. A purr began to rumble through Potter’s body; Draco was waking up.

“Oh! You’re going to be ever so much be'tter at that than Pin, aren’t you?” Draco’s sleepy voice was muffled in Harry’s mussed hair. “Mind if I have a nip?” Harry shook his head ‘no’ and Malfoy just grazed Potter’s ear, sucking so hard that Harry felt it in his cock. Licking the wound had the brunet moaning and writhing against a prominent protuberance. “So…you like that, eh? I can oblige.”

“Before you do, Draco, did I ever tell anyone you _aaaate Blaise_?” Harry voice rose as Draco’s nimble fingers began playing ‘Better the Second Time ‘Round’ on his skin flute.

“Don’t remember, don’t care, can’t be bothered! Sex first, drink blood second, then we decide.”

Harry didn’t care as long as Draco kept doing what he was doing. “'s okay… _oh, yeah, right there!_ ” Pin the house-elf shook her head and cleaned the room around the two hidden behind the bed curtains.

Popping into the hallway, she handed Blaise Zabini his hand, which he looked at with a sour face and thrust into his robe pocket. “Least the prat could have done is set a Preserving Spell on it! Stinks to high heaven, it does!” He twirled in the manner of Severus Snape and missed the gleam in Pin’s eyes. _Silly wizards! Pointy teeths not only ones who knows where blond fangs belong!_

_«¥» Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.  
Thank you for reading. «¥»_

**Author's Note:**

>  ****  
>  _Reference_  
>   
> 
>  [Hogsmeade Map](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/atlas/britain/atlas-b-hogsmeade.html)
> 
> * * *
> 
>  [Vampires & Veelas](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/bestiary/bestiary_v.html)
> 
> * * *
> 
>  [Magical Beings (at least those who have names)](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/wizards-non.html)


End file.
